A Many Splendored Thing
by musical1
Summary: To the wizarding world, Harry Potter was a hero. But to Ginny Weasley, he was the only guy that was supposed to never let her down, and then did. But while planning someone else's wedding, can she relearn that just maybe, true love really never dies.
1. A Few Reservations

**Author's Note:** So firstly, I know. It's been eons, right? But it was really bothering me that I left this unfinished for this long. And then I re-read it and I didn't like it so much, so I decided to overhaul it and do a massive re-write with intent to actually finish.

A Many Splendored Thing Chapter 1: A Few Reservations 

"I need to place a reservation on Friday for twenty," Ginny Weasley asked the receptionist at Prego, a small Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley. She tried not to smile as she watched the woman suppress a look of abject horror. Restaurants across the city had had the pleasure of trying to accommodate a Weasley family event; it was precisely that this one had _not_ that she had chosen it.

"Twenty. On Friday. _This_ Friday?" Clearly she hoped for a loophole.

"Yes. Twenty, for this Friday. It's a wedding dinner," she explained. It was only Monday, the request wasn't that unreasonable.

"Twenty for Friday. Under what name?" Ginny's neutral smile tightened.

"Weasley." She waited for the look of recognition to flash across the receptionist's face, and the latter didn't disappoint.

"Aren't you…" she started, suddenly animated.

"Yes, I'm Ginny."

"I heard about that! Shocking, really. It's always the ones you least suspect."

"I suppose so," responded Ginny neutrally. "If that's all then, we'll be back on Friday. Thanks for accommodating such a large party short notice." She flashed a curt smile, turning and heading quickly out of the restaurant.

Anybody watching her walk out of the restaurant wouldn't've seen how shaken she was on her face, and that was the way Ginny had trained herself to react. It would be different, she supposed, if she were ever recognized for something else. She had worked from just out of Hogwarts until the previous year for _Witch Weekly_, ultimately ending up as the chief fashion editor. Since then she'd had a fledgling but not altogether unsuccessful career in design, and if her name were recognizable as a result of either of these ventures, she would have had no problem with the recognition. But as everyone knows, what we wish for is often not the case, and Ginny's was no exception to the rule. _Get used to it,_ remarked a snide voice in the back of her mind. _Welcome to your life._

With a small _pop_, she arrived back in the living room of the Weasley household only to find Ron and Hermione at one another's throats for the third time this week.

"I'm telling you, Hermione, this is a good band!"

"Absolutely not. Muggles playing bagpipes will be making no appearances at _my_ wedding."

"It's my wedding as well, in case you've forgotten!"

"I put you in charge of one thing, but putting you in charge is not synonymous with 'extended the right to ruin'!" The two continued on in this manner for several more minutes, moving on from an argument over the music to the reception venue to the groomsmen's boutonniere colors before noticing Ginny was even in the room.

"Ginny! When did you get here?" Asked Ron suddenly, only noticing Ginny when she grabbed an apple from a bowl on the kitchen table.

"Ten minutes ago. We're set for Prego on Friday night. Eight for twenty."

"Oh you're a lifesaver. Thank you! Any problems?" Asked Hermione.

"No, none," replied Ginny, intently studying her apple for defects to avoid revealing anything in her face. "Anything I can help with?" She asked after a moment. "I have the afternoon off." Ron and Hermione exchanged sidelong glances, but kept quiet.

"Well, since you're here you can help me finalize the seating charts," offered Hermione, shooting another look at Ron.

"I'll be back in a bit, I'll leave you ladies to it." His sudden exit and Hermione's erratic behavior signaled something, clearly, but Ginny would leave them to reveal it at their leisure.

"Alright. What _really_ happened this afternoon?" Hermione was far to perceptive to ever let anything slide, but Ginny kept vainly hoping.

"Nothing." A pointed look made it clear she wouldn't get off that easily. "Alright. The receptionist had heard, but it's fine. I mean, people will know. I don't care." The conviction of her last sentence was lacking, and Ginny struggled to keep her face in the same placid mask. Hermione's expression softened.

"Look, Ginny… I know it's hard, but you don't have to pretend you're fine _all_ the time. Not around us. It's only been three weeks, you have time"

"It doesn't matter!" She insisted, though a crack in her voice betrayed her. She picked furiously at her nails, blinking back the tears collecting in her eyes. Hermione looked towards her, as though to say something, but ultimately decided against it and turned to the seating charts.

It was just as well, thought Ginny. Evidently she had been wrong in thinking she was cried out, but what else was there left to say? The story was straightforward, but it didn't change the fact, it didn't make recovering from it any easier. Suddenly a voice outsight caught her attention. Hermione looked up in alarm.

"Ginny, by the way, I meant to – " but the redhead never heard the end of her friend's statement. The voice outside made it's way into the kitchen, accompanied by an awkward-looking Ron.

To the wizarding world, Harry Potter was a hero, the reason people slept soundly in their beds at night without fear. To her family, he was a second son, a Weasley in everything but name and hair-color. To Ron and Hermione, he was the best friend of twelve years.

To Ginny, however, he was none of these things. To her, Harry Potter was the only man that was never supposed to let her down, and the only one that entirely did. To her, Harry Potter was the ex-fiancé who'd slept with someone else and gotten caught.


	2. Not That Simple

**Disclaimer:** You're all smart kids, so you know I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters there entailed. I'd also like to give credit where credit is due to the episode of _Friends_ that bears a remarkable influence in this chapter.

**Author's Note: **Hey all, a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys rock. This chapter's going to be more expository, we'll see what it was that actually _happened_ between Harry and Ginny. Here's chapter 2!

_**A Many Splendored Thing**_

Chapter 2: It's Not That Simple

For a second, Ginny was sure that she'd gone into shock. Rationally, she knew that she wouldn't've been able to hide from Harry forever, but she'd managed to go the three weeks since the _incident_ without seeing him. Consequently, to have him show up in her family's kitchen unexpectedly was a very nasty surprise indeed.

"Ginny, hi," said Harry in an unnatural, strangled sounding voice. "I didn't know you'd be here," he said lamely, trying and failing to sound relaxed.

"Funny that, considering I live here," she replied, giving her best "fuck off" smile. For a few seconds, the four remained in silence, each waiting for someone else to break the ice.

"So Ron," began Harry at last. "How are the wedding plans going?" Visibly relieved, Ron jumped on the question, beginning to talk a mile a minute with enthusiasm Ginny hadn't thought he was capable of in this particular arena.

"Well mate, it's Hermione, isn't it? She's got it all mapped out in her head, plus written down in about four different places. She has a binder just for fabric swatches for different color combinations for the wedding party. It's madness. But then, you know how that is, I mean… oh." In another circumstance, Ginny would've laughed at her brother saying something this idiotic. Another circumstance it was not, however, and all Ginny felt was angry.

Two weeks ago, Ron had cast aside his twelve-year friendship with Harry and been all supportive brother all the time. Something, though, had recently changed his mind and he had been caught humming The Beatles' "We Can Work It Out" on more than one occasion in Ginny's presence. It was getting old quickly. This, combined with his renewed chumminess with Harry, was more than Ginny's patience could allow. Suddenly Hermione's eyes widened with horror as she looked at the clock

"Shit, Ron, we have to go! We have a cake tasting in about ten minutes!" Hermione had never been one to be frazzled, but between career and wedding plans, it was taking a little more effort for her to keep her head screwed on lately. As Hermione hugged Harry goodbye, swearing on dinner plans for the following evening, Ron mouthed "sorry" in Ginny's direction before bolting for the fireplace. Scarcely daring to believe her brother and best friend would do this to her, Ginny opened her mouth in abject shock and horror when the two disappeared from sight. They had left her _alone_ with Harry. They hadn't spoken for three weeks, and now they thought this was a good idea.

"So…" began Harry, running his hands through his hair.

"So."

"Gin it's just us now, you can cut the crap," said Harry. Her friends and family called her by the nickname everyday of her life. So what was it about hearing Harry say it that made her feel like she couldn't breathe? With enormous effort, she brought her eyes to meet his.  
"Just us, eh? Tell me. How would you define _just us_ nowadays, anyhow?" Her eyes narrowed in a hard line.

"Ginny it's been three weeks since I've seen hide or hair of you. We need to talk about this!"

"There's nothing to say." She would be damned if she let Harry and his stupid startlingly green eyes and beautiful face and heartbreaking smile just waltz into her kitchen and act like nothing was wrong. _Fuck him_, she thought.

"Fine," he said, anger and regret mingling in his voice. "I'll just go then."

"Fine." Ginny looked down at the seating chart, where – to spite her – she saw her name in Hermione's neat cursive seated next to one Harry Potter. The real Harry stayed standing for another moment, but Ginny determinedly kept her head down until he finally headed for the door.

It took about a minute before Ginny realized that what she'd convinced herself was stoicism was actually closer to stupidity. No matter how little she wanted to talk to Harry, she couldn't let him walk out like that. Shoving her feet in a pair of shoes near the door, she tore off down the driveway after him.

"Harry!" Whether he hadn't heard or was ignoring her, she didn't know, but he didn't turn. "God dammit, Harry James Potter. Turn around, for God's sake." She hadn't expected him to, but by some miracle he stopped, turning to face her.

"I got the message, Ginny. I'm leaving, alright?" He sounded tired, and there were shadows on his face she didn't remember. But the resignation, the refusal to fight for her, just made Ginny angrier.

She'd spent enough time telling everyone she was alright, putting on a happy face, pretending it didn't matter that much. Avoiding Harry to avoid having to care. Being "fine, just fine", dancing through life to a chorus of "Oh Ginny you're just so strong." But she didn't want to be fine anymore; every ugly feeling she'd pushed into a box in the back of her brain pushed forward, overwhelming the rational part entirely.

"You came with an agenda. You want to talk? Let's talk. What's on your mind, Potter?" She seethed, working herself into a rhythm.

"I… it's been three weeks, Ginny! You've been avoiding me for that long. You must've been home at some point during that time, because all your things are gone, but you won't stay around long enough to see me. You haven't even let me apologize."

"Oh, yes, you're right, I'm sorry. I'll let you apologize and it'll be okay that you _slept with someone else_. My mistake."

"Ginny, listen, please try to see where I'm coming from! I've been out of my head for the past three weeks."

"Where you're coming from? You have no place to be coming from! You're Harry bloody Potter, the hero, the boy that can do no wrong. Guess what, Harry. This is unfamiliar territory, but you fucked up this time."

"I'm aware, thanks. You don't know what I've been through. Do you know what it's like to wake up every morning and hate the person you see? To know that however much you hurt, you made the person you love feel ten times worse? That it is one hundred percent _entirely_ your own fault? Do you?"

"No. I know what it's like to wake up in the morning to remember that you're sleeping in your family's house because your fiancé couldn't just keep it in his pants. I know what it's like to just want to sleep all day because all the little fears in your head that say 'maybe I'm not good enough' have been confirmed. I know what it's like to be the one who must've done something wrong to get something **so perfect** and have it taken away." She hadn't said any of this before, not to anyone. The pain she'd convinced herself she didn't feel anymore spewed up violently, mingling with her fury and starting hot tears streaming down her face.

"Ginny, please. _Please_. I'm going crazy without you; I can't… I don't even know how to say how sorry I am." She wanted to be callous, to not care about him, but try as she might, she couldn't be unaffected by the sincerity in his voice. They studied one another's faces in silence, his green eyes never traveling from her brown ones. She wanted so badly to forgive and forget, but she couldn't. The whole mess was engrained too far in her memory.

-----

Ginny sat in the darkness, waiting for the sound of a door opening. Her watch read 12:15. The door creaked and she heard footsteps in the doorway.

"Happy anniversary, _honey_."

"What?" Asked Harry's voice, clearly disarmed by Ginny's acrid statement ringing through the darkness.

"About four hours ago, you were supposed to meet me for dinner? You know, for our two-year anniversary? Not to mention for three months after our engagement?"

"Oh, my God, Ginny. I just… I…"

"Forgot, is the word you're looking for."

"No, I got swamped at work, I mean… I never thought you – " As the lights flicked on, Ginny finally turned around.

"Oh don't you dare turn this on me."

"Ginny, listen, I'm sorry. But when you called me this afternoon you sounded so distracted, I just thought… you're just _always_ busy now, you know? I feel like I've seen more empty glimpses of your studio through the floo than I have of _you_ lately. How can I have a relationship with someone I only see in the twelve hours we're here together sleeping?" That stung. That _really_ stung.

"What, so a year in you're getting cold feet?"

"That's not what I meant. I just mean that… I don't know what to do anymore, I can't remember the last time I sat down to just talk with you! I mean if you just…"

"Just what, quit my job? Give up my life to fit better with yours? You don't get it, Harry. You've been famous since you were born and I've never envied you that. But for _once_, I'm not "the youngest Weasley." I'm not defined by being somebody's sister, I'm not "Harry Potter's girlfriend." I'm Ginny Weasley and people know who I am for that."

"People have always known you like that…"

"No, Harry. I'm sorry, but you're wrong. I'm Ginny Weasley in the context of those around me. But not anymore, I'm doing something that I'm damn good at and that I love. And you want to give that up because you can't handle it?"

"I never said that, I wouldn't say that. But what, then? You're allowed to throw a conniption fit over one night I don't show up, but I have to keep silent about all the time I spend _not_ seeing you? I have a career and a life too. Voldemort may be dead but it's not exactly like my job is a breeze.

"How could I forget? Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. I'm sorry, you're right, your first responsibility is to the world at large. How dare I claim that my insignificant little life compares? You are, after all, greater and smarter than I. Forgive me, oh Chosen One."

"Don't do that, Ginny, that isn't fair at all. I'm only telling you that you've set up a double standard here. I'm a little confused, I think I'm allowed that right. I want to see _you_, not your office. I want to talk to you, to be with you, to be near you, not to have to think about that as though it were some distant remnant!"

"And I want you to understand that I can't put my life on hold for you? What happens when we're married, Harry? I become a stay-at-home _trophy wife_? I smile idly because then _you're_ never home? What?" They were screaming at one another now, each equally unwilling to budge an inch.

"You know what, Harry, you're right. I'm sorry. I completely don't understand where you're coming from. Of course. I'm always wrong."

"Don't, Ginny. I'm not saying -"

"Yeah well you're _never_ saying. Don't tread on eggshells! Don't _not_ say!"

"Alright, yeah, I'm angry that you're never here and I see glimpses of your face at a time. And you're going to get in _my _face about it the one time I do? Yeah, that makes me angry. But clearly, I'm at fault and you are right. I'm awful. I get that."

"Don't play the victim! You… look, Harry, you just _don't_ get it this time, okay?"

"I guess I don't. I wouldn't be surprised, I feel like I don't know you now. Who knows what else I don't know." Ginny understood his implication and recoiled as though she'd been slapped.

"How _dare_ you. I sat in a goddamn restaurant by myself for two hours thinking Merlin knows what about where you were and who you were with and you're on top of everything else going to accuse me of having an affair? Who on earth do you think I am?"

"That's _not_ what I said."

"You didn't have to."

"What can I say to you, then? I'm the bad guy, Gin, that doesn't change. I get _that_ at least. You're always the innocent one. Please, feel free to ignore my feelings as well."

"Fine then, don't paint me as the villain either! You were the one that started this when you couldn't be arsed to _show up for dinner on our anniversary_. Two years. It's been two years and you're just now showing your true colors. You know what? I don't even want to hear what you have to say until you've figured out I'm not some helpless little doll. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Fine. Walk away. I told you, Ginny, I'm wrong. That's easy, isn't it? God forbid I think that when I asked you to _marry me_ we'd actually see one another. I have all these expectations, I guess."  
"Forget it. I'm not going to deal with this right now." In a fit of melodrama uncharacteristic of her even at her angriest, she grabbed her purse and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

She fell asleep at the Burrow angry, but woke up guilty. Lying in bed, she thought over the argument, embarrassed at how immature she must've sounded. She suddenly wished very much she'd woken up next to Harry, rather than alone, so that she could roll over and apologize for the whole thing.

Flooing into Diagon Alley, she went over in her head that she would just explain the whole issue and it'd be done with, forgotten. They could have lunch today, making up for yesterday's dinner, and it would all be over. She didn't know why she was nervous on the walk back to their flat, but a ridiculous argument over nothing will do that.

The first sign that something was not right was the unlocked front door. Edging carefully and quietly inside the flat, the entirely empty bottle of Firewhiskey on the coffee table combined this suspicion. Convincing herself that this surely was entirely coincidental, she continued on through the apartment. It was early still, so she figured her best bet would be to climb in bed with Harry, to wake him up to her apology.

But when she opened the door, it became clear someone else had already had that idea. Harry was still asleep (with _another_ unidentified, empty liquor bottle by the bed), but wasn't alone. Sheets askew, Harry was tangled with an unidentified, gorgeous brunette who was equally passed out asleep.

For a few seconds, Ginny couldn't breathe – it was as though this was simply too much for something as simple as her eyes to take in. But the longer she stood there, the clearer it became that this was not some horrible optical illusion. The awful truth was exactly as she saw it – her prince was really just another frog.

-----

She knew by the look in his eyes that he knew what she was thinking, but he'd never say. She knew, the way you always do about someone you're so familiar with, that he was humiliated and _did_ feel guilty. But it didn't change what he'd done, it didn't make it go away.

"Ginny, I'm so, so, sorry. If you think I've ruined your life believe me it's nothing to what I've done to my own. I would never have done what I did if I figured we even still had a relationship – I'd never seen you so mad at me," he pleaded, on the verge of tears himself. Slowly and carefully, he wrapped his arms around her back, and kissed her gently. Ginny wanted nothing more than to give in, but she couldn't. It wasn't that simple.

"No! No, you can't just… just say that, just kiss me, just expect this to all go away! It's not that easy, Harry. It doesn't work that way. I'm sorry too; sorry that I even provoked the fight in the first place. But you can't expect me to just let you kiss me, let you tell me you're sorry and now it's done. I thought you were the only person that would never, ever hurt me. But now I can't see you the same way, I can't just _forget_ and let it go. You… you're a different person to me now." It was too much; she couldn't take it anymore. The reasonable, rational approach she'd taken to being hurt had failed as the rest of her hurt welled to the surface. Looking up at him once more, her eyes stung with tears and she turned away, walking back into the Burrow with every ounce of strength it kept to stop herself from falling apart.

It only took an instant for it to all fall apart. But putting it back together wouldn't be nearly as easy.


End file.
